


Cigarettes after (Almost) Sex

by BluePens (0O0)



Category: BoJack Horseman
Genre: F/M, Oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-10 20:30:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7005208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0O0/pseuds/BluePens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sex with Bojack was… memorable. When she was sober, that is. Climaxing was out of the question. See, Bojack had the habit of prioritizing himself both in a day to day basis and in the bedroom. This meant that Princess Carolyn had to learn to enjoy the journey of making love rather than the actual destination. Unfortunately for her, the journey was often a long and tedious one with way too many detours. However, this night was different. Not because they were having enjoyable sex (God forbid) but because they weren't having sex at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cigarettes after (Almost) Sex

**Author's Note:**

> hellu! this was *so* fun to make but honestly guys, it was just me practicing productive dialouge lol. well anyway, if you're reading, enjoy! don't forget to comment and kudos and all that jazz !!!

Sex with Bojack was… memorable. When she was sober, that is. Climaxing was out of the question. See, Bojack had the habit of prioritizing himself both in a day to day basis and in the bedroom. This meant that Princess Carolyn had to learn to enjoy the journey of making love rather than the actual destination. Unfortunately for her, the journey was often a long and tedious one with way too many detours. However, this night was different. Not because they were having enjoyable sex (God forbid) but because they weren't having sex at all. 

There came a point where repeating the same things to the same people became inefficient and her attempts at comfort became predictable. She asked not so much out of curiosity or concern, but out of instinct. As if though mothering had become a second nature that had clung onto her like a cat clings onto an expensive couch and no matter how hard she tried to pry the consoling habits off of her, she never quite succeeded. So, she asked. "Something the matter?"

Bojack sat with both elbows resting on his knees and an unlit cigarette dangling from his mouth. He only wore his boxers -- no erection. Bojack grabbed the flashy lighter from his beside and pressed against his cigarette.The fast flicker of a flame lit the thin, white coping mechanism in-between his fingers. He inhaled deeply, a prolonged drag which was followed by an exhale of smoke. So much, in fact, one would have thought he was trying to blow his problems as he did the airy fog. "Everything." 

Carolyn rolled her eyes. Bojack had such a mellow dramatic way of doing everything. "Everything? What's that mean?" 

He stood up from the bed and slipped a white button up on, heading for the patio door in his room, opened it and looked down on the glistening city. Bojack looked up at the sky, not too many stars. It was Hollywoo after all. He felt the chronic emptiness begin to cave in and rested his head in his hands. 

Princess Carolyn looked at him and scratched her whiskers. Sometimes, in the paused and almost meaningless moments such as that one, she was reminded of quickly her life had just sort of passed her by. The idea of death always lingered in the back of her mind in the years of her youth. But in the last few years the idea of death felt natural. All sentences need a period to complete them, or the sentence becomes dragged on. Eventually it was a thought that she thought was euphoric and peaceful in an obstinate, perverse way. 

She stood, stretching her legs and walking towards him. She wrapped her claws around the rusty railing. The pink cat frowned. "Are you alright?"

"No." He replied; a soft, smoky offering to the sky. 

"Why?"

Bojack felt a rise of intense irritation as he retorted, "I don't know!" He recollected his temper and repeated himself this time in a more humble, contained way. "I don't know." After indulging himself in a short-lived drag, he pressed the bud of his cigarette against the metal railing and allowed it to drop onto the ground, watching, but eventually losing sight of it. "I hate it when people ask me 'why'." Bojack said simply. "I know I shouldn't be unsatisfied. I'm a millionaire movie star, I'm playing the role of my dreams. I should be happy, right?"

"But you're not?"

"Happy? No one is. No one I know, at least."

Princess Carolyn pursed her lips. "I'm happy."

"No." Bojack disagreed. "You're not. Or you wouldn't be here right now talking to some washed up has been or trying to have sex when you're not even remotely aroused."

"I was aroused." Carolyn protested. "For a little while." 

"Go home, PC."

"What?" She responded in disbelief. "I don't have a ride! It's three in the morning!" After a moment of silence, Carolyn groaned. "Augh! You know what? Do you have any idea how hard -- She sighed, recollecting what ever fragmented miniature explosions of emotion had escaped her during the sentence. "You know, I just thought I could have one day to myself where I could just forget about everything that was messed up in my life. But I guess I was wrong." She let that last statement sit in the precipice of the conversation between the two of them, allowing it to sting into him. She wanted it to itch in the morning. A claw mark that left a nasty sting. "Bye, Bojack."


End file.
